


An Inconvenient Boon

by augusthollande



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Coming Out, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Dialogue Heavy, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Hogwarts, Subverted Tropes, Virgin Sacrifice, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 09:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augusthollande/pseuds/augusthollande
Summary: A latent, centuries-old curse leads to frank discussion of sexual history, virginity as a construct, and unexpected bonding between two old enemies.(A mostly dialogue based Auror!Potter and Curse-Breaker!Malfoy AU written for hdconsentfest 2018.)





	An Inconvenient Boon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TDCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TDCat/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by HD Consent Fest 2018 but is not part of the official collection. I unfortunately found the prompt too late to sign up for the fest, but luckily the mods were kind enough to allow me to use it anyway, especially TDCat whose prompt I used. Thank you, and I hope you like the fic, even though I may have departed from the prompt a bit.
>
>> Prompt: Auror/Cursebreaker/Unspeakable (?) partners Harry and Draco are captured by nefarious entities. One must save the other from being used as a virgin sacrifice
>> 
>> Extra Information: Ok, I admit this is a little cracky. Both men think the other is sexually active (or has been in the past), but one of them has been lying about it. I think this prompt would work best if the “bad guys” were non-human, so there is no bargaining or possibility of salvation outside of “oops, sorry, no virgins here anymore.” Extra credit for consideration of what virginity actually means, how it’s fetishized, how it may reside in the eye of the beholder...  
> 

**12.15pm  
The catacombs of Rome**

It was only halfway through Day 2 of their assignment, and Harry was already stifling a yawn.

“Didn’t sleep well, Potter?” This came from his partner, Draco Malfoy, who had somehow caught Harry in his yawn despite appearing to have all his attention focused on the scrolls in front of him.

“I slept fine, Malfoy. Just wondering when I’d finally have something to do.”

Draco smirked without looking up. “Not every room can have an occamy or a chimaera for you to heroically slay.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the exaggeration. They had indeed come across a sleeping occamy that very morning, but they’d sensibly chosen to steer clear of it and it’s nest of silver eggs, and Harry certainly hadn’t slayed it. He was fervently hoping they wouldn’t run into a chimaera, even though Draco had said it was very much a possibility, when in Rome. No wizard in known history had survived an encounter with one of those, and Harry didn’t want to tempt fate trying to be the first.

“Okay, all done here,” said Draco, standing up and dusting off his knees. “These scrolls are just records of crop yields and trade between the Roman Empire and Asia. I’ve broken the security curses but I’ve left the protective charms in place to preserve the scrolls. We’ll leave these for the historians to collect later.”

“Sounds good. How many more after this?”

Draco considered. “One more and we’ll break for lunch.”

Cheered by the prospect of a recess in the near future, Harry was eager to get the last room over with. He followed Draco back into the main corridors of the catacombs, the doorway sealing itself behind them as soon as they were through it. Draco marked the stone with a green cross to indicate to the archaeological team that it was safe, and they moved on, both of their wands lit and held high in defensive positions in case there was anything hiding in the dark tunnels ahead of them.

By now they had fallen into a familiar pattern. Draco as the Curse-breaker would stick close to the walls, seeking out hidden entryways and traps, hoping to either reveal them or disable them as each case required. Harry, as an Auror and Draco’s assigned protective detail, would remain at Draco’s flank and cover him if any creatures or malignant curses and objects attacked from ahead. So far there had been very few instances of this, and they had progressed quickly through the maze of crypts. They had been partnered before on similar assignments and were comfortable working with each other, moving swiftly and efficiently through the catacombs. Usually while working on historical sites such as this, there would be multiple teams of partners sweeping different areas to complete the work quicker, but in this case it was deemed unnecessary, as the target area was small and Draco estimated that they had already covered a good quarter of it. At this rate, they would have it cleared within a week.

“Here, Potter. Another one.”

They had stopped in front of what looked like an ordinary patch of wall, identical in appearance to every other part of the tunnel, but by now Harry knew not to question Draco’s methods. Sure enough, after a moment of low muttering and deliberate wand movements, a line of runes appeared as if carved into the stone surface.

Draco held his wand light over the runes to read them. “Ah, this one is fairly straightforward. It requires a sacrifice.”

Harry frowned. “What kind of sacrifice?”

“That’s where we get lucky, Potter. It doesn’t have a qualifier, which means any kind of sacrifice, including…” Here Draco trailed off to pull out a vial from his coat pocket. It looked suspiciously like-

“Is that _blood_?”

“Dragon’s blood, Potter. Incredibly useful substance, I always keep some on hand. And now you see why.” Carefully, he portioned out half of the blood into his palm, and then swept it over the surface of the stone. For a moment nothing happened, the blood remained a gleaming scarlet stripe on the wall. And then, the runes began to glow, and the blood disappeared as it was absorbed into the stone, sacrifice accepted.

Harry grinned. “I do believe you’ve just discovered a thirteenth use for dragon’s blood.”

“Maybe now I’ve finally earned a place on a chocolate frog card,” Draco joked.

“Keep dreaming, Malfoy.” Whatever response Draco had to this was swallowed up as he stepped through the stone. Harry hurried to follow before the entryway sealed itself off again. When he came out the other side, Draco was looking surprised, and a little miffed.

“You must not have heard me through the stone. I said this one’s a dead end.”

“Oh.” Harry turned around and tried to pass his hand through the entryway. It was met with solid stone, unyielding. “It’s sealed itself already.”

“I thought it might.” Harry stepped aside to give Draco access to the entryway. Once again, he was quick to translate the runes.

“Well this is inconvenient.”

“Can’t we just throw some blood on it again?”

“Potter, you know as well as I do that most of these rooms are double-warded with different curses.”

“Okay, so what does this one want?”

“It still requires a sacrifice, but this time it has a qualifier. Look at this rune.”

“What’s it say? A human sacrifice?”

“Worse. A virgin sacrifice.”

There was an incredulous silence. “You’re joking.”

“I’m afraid I’m really not, Potter.” Draco abandoned the doorway and walked further into the room, examining its bare stone walls. “So unless you have a time-turner that can take us back to the night of the Yule Ball, we’ll have to find another way out of here.”

Harry’s mouth was set in an unhappy line, but he said nothing and joined Draco’s exploration of the room.

 

**12.40pm**

After fifteen minutes of thorough exploration, they mutually conceded that there was no other way to escape from the room.

“Maybe there’s some kind of password or something to bypass the curse?”

“Even if there was, Potter, we don’t know what it is, and I highly doubt we’d be able to guess at it.”

“Well what did the guys who built this place plan to do if they got stuck down here themselves? Surely they didn’t bring a virgin with them every time they came and went.”

Draco looked thoughtful. “Actually, these are religious tombs. So it’s not outside the realm of possibility that the priests who traversed these tunnels were accompanied by Vestal Virgins.”

Not for the first time this mission, Harry thought to himself, _Ancient Romans were fucking weird_.

“But the most likely explanation is that the curse was designed to intentionally keep people locked inside. To trap thieves who came down here to loot the tombs of the rich.”

“Thanks Malfoy. That’s reassuring to know.” Draco didn’t rise to the bait. “So what do we do now?”

Draco looked genuinely conflicted for a moment, but eventually he gave in. “We’ll have to send a patronus for backup.”

There was no shame in calling for backup. Many Curse-Breakers and Aurors alike got caught in situations beyond their control, and it was considered foolish not to call for assistance where it was required. Harry also knew that Draco wouldn’t give in and ask for back up unless he considered it the last resort.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive. I see no way out except the virgin sacrifice and I’m well aware that neither of us qualify.”

Harry didn’t ask again. Instead he conjured his stag patronus and sent it with a message to Head Auror Robards calling for backup with a quick summary of the situation and their approximate location. Of the pair of them, Harry was always the one who sent patronus messages. He wasn’t sure of Draco’s patronus form, or if he was even capable of producing one, but he knew not to ask. That was on the long list of sensitive topics they never broached during their work together, such as their years of childhood enmity, Lucius Malfoy or Draco’s allegiance during the war.

A year after Harry had spoken out for Draco at his trial (a month after his year of house arrest, to be exact), Draco had approached Harry with a sincere apology and heartfelt thanks for standing up for him at his trial. Harry had been as formal with him as was polite, accepting the apology and the gratitude as his due, and from then their relationship had been distant yet civil. Over the years of working with him, however, they had grown to be more cordial and relaxed around each other, to the point that now, Harry would even consider him a friend, in a professional sort of way. They went out for drinks at the successful completion of assignments, shared gossip about colleagues and friends in common, and it was well-known that they preferred each other’s company whenever Curse-Breaking work required the use of an Auror, and vice versa.

By the time Harry had finished sending his message, Draco had found a spot to sit against a wall and settled in.

“Now we wait?” Harry asked.

“Now we wait,” confirmed Draco.

 

**1.20pm**

What Harry was quickly learning was that Draco wasn’t the most patient of people. Not that Harry was either, but he had long become used to lengthy stakeouts and hiding under the invisibility cloak for hours at a time. Without the added burden of having to actively be on the lookout for something, he found he could easily stare at a fixed point and drift off for minutes at a time.

Forty minutes in, however, and Draco’s wand was literally shooting sparks from his frustration. Draco had taken to conjuring different coloured sparks just to occupy himself. It was interesting to watch, but Harry worried about what the sparks might escalate to if he didn’t step in.

“Do you want to play a game?”

Draco stopped the spark-making. “What kind of game?”

Harry hadn’t thought that far. “I don’t know… I spy?” He immediately regretted it; Draco’s answering glare could have withered plants. “Okay, scratch that. How about chess?”

“I didn’t exactly bring a chessboard with me, Potter.”

Harry wasn’t perturbed. “I’m sure we can think of something.” He began rifling through his pockets, pulling out any spare bits and bobs he could find. A bunch of knuts and sickles, two galleons, a biro, a box of matches (“why, Potter, when you can easily conjure fire with your wand?”), a very old hard-boiled candy, a Nosebleed Nougat, and, to his own astonishment, an actual rook from a wizards chess set that was so old the charms had worn off. Draco in turn was able to offer a small purse full of galleons, an engraved cigarette case, a ring with the Malfoy family crest, a badge for the Wimbourne Wasps (Harry was very careful to keep a straight face), an inkpot and a quill.

The coins were resistant to transfiguration, so they stood in for pawns. Harry set aside the cigarette case and the ring, and the rest were transfigured into extremely rudimentary versions of chess pieces. Draco charmed the appearance of a chessboard onto the surface of the smooth, stone floor.

Without the violent comedic value of regular wizards chess, it became a more strategic game than Harry usually played, but he had had plenty of practise with Ron, who was the best opponent he knew. Still, Harry was used to conversation while he played.

“You know, you were very quick to dismiss the idea of a virgin sacrifice.”

Draco glanced up at Harry but remained focused on the pieces.

“I didn’t think it worth my time when there were no virgins to sacrifice.”

“You seem very sure of that, Malfoy.”

Draco scoffed. “I know my own sexual history, and it’s very hard for me to believe the Saviour and Most Eligible Bachelor of the Wizarding World is still a virgin.” He moved his bishop to claim one of Harry’s pawns. “Even if he were,” he continued, “I’d hardly get away with sacrificing him to save my own hide, would I?”

Harry carefully did not look up as he spoke next. “There was a time that you wouldn’t hesitate.”

Draco’s voice was very soft when he replied. “That was very long ago, Potter. Now, I wouldn’t consider it.”

Quietly gratified, Harry let silence endure for the next few moves.

“You know…” This time it was Draco who spoke up. “The concept of virginity itself is very heteronormative.”

Harry chuckled. “You sound like Hermione. She says virginity is a social construct.”

“She has a point. Unlike what I used to believe, I’ve been told that there’s no biological basis in the concept of virginity, and it serves no functional purpose.” After a moment he added, almost sceptically, “apparently a woman isn’t even supposed to bleed the first time, if you do it right. Or so Pansy tells me.”

“You sound like you’ve never slept with a woman.”

“I haven’t.”

“You haven’t?” Harry was amazed. “What, not ever?”

“No,” Draco said casually. “I figured out pretty early that girls didn’t do it for me.”

Harry had already known about Draco’s sexuality. It was impossible not to know. He was publicly outed a few years back when photographs of himself sharing an intimate moment with Wasps Seeker Taron Hinchcliffe were published in Witch Weekly and various other gossip rags. The photos were innocent enough that they could have been passed off as a moment of affection between two close friends, but Hinchcliffe had taken the opportunity to publicly come out and confirm his relationship with Draco Malfoy, who in turn only spoke publicly to support Hinchcliffe’s account and ask the public and press to respect their privacy. The press had done no such thing, of course, and every detail of their split a few months down the track and their subsequent relationships with others were reported about in varying degrees of accuracy. Some of the coverage was favourable; most was not.

“It’s just that, when you mentioned the Yule Ball. I had assumed it was Pansy.”

“No, not Pansy.” Draco smirked conspiratorially. “Theodore Nott.”

Harry forgot the chessboard entirely. “Holy shit, Nott? I thought he was straight.”

“He is straight.” Draco shrugged. “He just decided to take a detour on the way.”

“Wow… fair enough.” Harry shook his head. “So when you were saying the concept of virginity is heteronormative…”

“I was in fact implying that, having never had intercourse with a female, I would therefore, by certain definitions, qualify as a virgin,” Draco finished off for him.

Harry was thoughtful. “You don’t consider yourself a virgin though.”

“Of course not. I’ve had sex with males, and done things that go well past the point of ‘virginity’. I know women who have had sex with only other women, who I definitely would not consider virginal. It really is a useless, archaic concept.”

“So by that logic, would you consider a man and a woman who have… performed sexual acts together, but not actually had intercourse. They would no longer be virgins?”

“As far as I’m concerned, Potter, as long as there’s mutual touching and kissing and orgasms, it’s sex. And if you’ve had sex, you’re not a virgin.”

“Well that’s a relief to know, I guess.” Harry said, relaxing a little. “I mean, I know we established that virginity is a construct, so it doesn’t matter anyway. But still. In this particular circumstance. It’s good to know I don’t count.” He finished with a careless gesture towards the entryway, or more specifically, the runes that blocked them from leaving. Draco stared at the runes and then back at Harry, trying to parse what he had just said.

“Do you mean to tell me you’ve never had intercourse with a woman, Potter?”

Harry shrugged. “Nope.” But it didn’t sound as candid as he had hoped it would.

“But-” Draco was confounded. “But you were with the Weasley girl. For years.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it was never a priority, before the, well, you know. During the war. And then afterwards. When we finally got around to… exploring, shall we say. I couldn’t… well. I couldn’t. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Surprisingly, Draco was nodding. “You couldn’t get it up.” It was a common problem amongst many of their classmates. The war had left all kinds of psychological scars on their psyches, the least of which was affecting their performance in bed. ‘Post-War Sexual Dysfunction’ they termed it, in the Healing pamphlets. Many of Draco’s friends had gone to St Mungo’s to seek assistance with it, and even Draco had suffered from it in the earlier days. He still did, in certain ways.

“No. I mean, yes, but it wasn’t because of that. I couldn’t do it because it was with Ginny. I mean, not Ginny specifically but because…”

Draco remained silent, giving Harry the space to find the words. It was that show of respect and compassion that gave Harry the courage to be honest. He took a deep breath.

“I’m gay, Malfoy. I couldn’t have sex with Ginny because she wasn’t a man.”

Draco was stunned for a full second. _Holy shit,_ he thought, _the Saviour of the Wizarding World is gay_. And then Draco fully processed what this confession meant for Harry, his co-worker and his friend, and he felt like an arse. “Oh shit, Potter. I’m sorry for prying. I didn’t mean to force you out of the closet.”

“No, no. It’s okay. I don’t mind that you know.” He laughed. “It actually feels good to finally tell someone.”

“You mean no one knew?”

“Well Ginny does, of course. She helped me figure it out. She was great about it, actually. And Ron and Hermione.”

Three people. Only three people in the whole world. And now Draco was the fourth.

“Thank you for telling me, Harry. I promise I’ll do my best to be worthy of your trust.”

Harry was touched. “Thank you, Draco. That means a lot to me.”

There was a pause. “Just so we’re clear, just because we could both technically qualify as virgins, doesn’t mean we’re sacrificing each other.”

Harry laughed, the weight of their serious conversation dissipating completely.

“Good thing we don’t have to resort to that,” he replied, finally returning to the chessboard. It had been his turn for a good ten minutes now.

“Yes, what is taking them so long?” Draco muttered, considering Harry’s latest move. It wasn’t a serious question, but suddenly, alarm bells were ringing in Harry’s head. He thought furiously, trying to figure out what they had overlooked, and blanched when the possibility crossed his mind.

“Malfoy. It’s just occurred to me. How can we be certain that our Patronus even got through the wards?”

Draco suddenly sat up straight. “I’ve never heard of a ward being able to block a Patronus.”

“But is it possible?”

“I don’t know.” Then. “But I think that if they had gotten it, wouldn’t they have sent one back?”

“Fuck.” That would have been the first thing Robards had done.

“Okay, don’t panic. We still have options. Eventually they’re going to realise we’re missing and send someone after us. Is there anyone who knows where you are?”

“The Head Auror, Robards. He assigned me to this case. He’ll know something’s wrong when I don’t check in by tomorrow morning.”

“That’s still an entire day away. Anyone else?”

Harry shrugged. “The hotel?” Draco dismissed this with a handwave. “What about you?”

“Weasley gave me this case, so he knows where I am, but he won’t be expecting any word from me until we clear the area.”

“So he won’t realise anything’s amiss for days.”

“Exactly. My mother on the other hand. She owls me every Friday. She’ll start worrying when she doesn’t hear back from me tonight. Probably by midnight. She knows I’m on assignment, but I never told her the exact location.”

“What are the chances she’ll reach out to Bill if she suspects something’s wrong?”

“Not that high.” Draco grimaced. “I don’t have the best track record for responding to her owls. And Weasley wouldn’t be the first person she goes to.”

“So. Best case scenario, your mum realises something is wrong and contacts Bill, or someone who _might_ be concerned enough to contact Bill, who will come rescue us by tonight. Worst case scenario: Robards notifies the Auror department that we’re missing and they come rescue us tomorrow by mid-morning. What’s the time now?”

Draco cast a Tempus. “Two thirty-eight pm.”

“Great, so that’s still at least another ten hours in our best case scenario. And we’ve missed lunch.”

They looked around at the room they had just learned they would have to spend another ten hours in, at best. It suddenly felt a lot more bleak and claustrophobic.

“At least this one doesn’t have any creepy skulls in it,” Harry said lightly. Draco was unimpressed.

 

**3.30pm**

They had long completed their game of chess and had not started another round. It had ended in a stalemate, and although Draco privately suspected Harry had intentionally played to guarantee that end rather than playing to win, he didn’t voice his suspicions. Harry had in fact accidentally overlooked an opportunity to win, distracted as he was by their situation, but he considered it a happy accident that he didn’t have to deal with an insufferable Draco whose pride was insulted by a loss to Harry. Malfoy may have improved a lot since their Hogwarts years, but he was still a sore loser.

Draco had by this time transfigured one of the chess pieces (which had previously been the badge for the Wimbourne Wasps) into a ball that he was lazily bouncing against the wall opposite him. Harry knew this would get annoying to listen to very soon, but for now he was content to let Draco distract himself as he pleased.

And then his stomach growled.

“Feeling hungry, Potter?” Draco asked, sounding amused.

“I am starving, Malfoy. Honestly I don’t know how you aren’t.”

“For your information, I am,” Draco replied. He had abandoned the ball and was sorting through the chess pieces. After a moment he held out his hand to Harry; he had untransfigured the hard-boiled candy and the Nosebleed Nougat back into their original, if slightly misshapen forms. “Here, pick one.”

“I’m afraid to tell you, Malfoy, but you won’t want to eat the orange one. It’s from the Skiving Snackbox collection.”

Draco held up the orange-wrapped candy with interest. “A Weasley Wizarding Wheezes product, is it? I knew I recognised the packaging.” He unwrapped it.

“Malfoy. What are you doing?”

Draco tossed the hard-boiled candy at Harry dismissively. “I never got to try one of these when I was at Hogwarts. There were some Slytherins who used them, sure, but if I’d ever been caught using a Weasley product…” Draco broke the two coloured ends of the sweet apart. “Which side do I eat first?”

Despite himself, Harry was curious to see what would happen. At least it wasn’t a Puking Pastille. “The orange side. The purple is the antidote.”

Draco gave Harry the cheekiest grin he had ever seen on him, and swallowed the nougat. Nothing happened for a good minute, and then suddenly, Draco’s hands flew up to his nose. When he pulled them away, a steady drip of blood was coming out of his left nostril, and Draco looked positively delighted.

“Marvellous!” he exclaimed. “I definitely could have used this to get out of class in Sixth Year.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on the positive review to George,” Harry joked, charmed by Draco’s cheer.

“Please do. Tell me what his reaction was when you tell him Draco Malfoy tried one of his sweets.”

They both laughed at this, and Draco finally popped the purple end into his mouth. The bleeding stopped swiftly, and Harry vanished the blood that had dripped onto Draco’s shirt and lap.

“Thank you, Potter. I’m glad I can finally tick that experience off my bucket list.”

“Anytime, Malfoy. I’m glad I got to witness you losing your Nosebleed Nougat virginity.”

Once again, they broke into laughter, and it lasted for minutes.

 

**4.45pm**

“I wish we had some music.”

Harry found himself agreeing with Draco. Right now, he would willingly listen to Celestina Warbeck just for something to do. He wondered what kind of music Draco liked listening to.

“ _Kiss me on the mouth and set me free… Sing me like a choir… I can be the subject of your dreams... Your sickening desire..._ ”

“God Potter, that was awful. Please don’t ever sing again.” Some few minutes later. “What was that anyway?”

“It’s a Muggle song. I heard it on the radio. Don’t know who it’s by.”

“Oh.” Then. “How does the next line go?”

 

**5.40pm**

They had been passing the time chatting about inconsequential things. The latest models of Quidditch brooms, recent discoveries in the Potions community that had interested Draco, the development (or lack of development in some cases) of some of the workplace relationships within the Ministry, and what type of present Harry should buy for Hermione and Ron’s first child (few people knew that they were expecting, but Draco had a friendly academic relationship with Hermione, if not for Ron, and was in the loop), when Draco said, apropos of nothing:

“Potter, I’ve been thinking. I understand why it would be difficult for you of all people to find a gay wizard to start something with. But why haven’t you ever considered dating a Muggle? You’re not famous in their world.”

Harry sighed. “I’ve thought about it Malfoy, but the trouble is, I work and I live in the Wizarding World. My whole life is here. Where am I supposed to meet a Muggle, let alone one who’s gay? That’s rare in every world.”

Draco could think of a few places where it was very easy to meet and go home with a gay Muggle. Places he had even patronised in the past. But he also knew those weren’t the kind of places Harry would ever go. Potter wasn’t the cruising type. He was the relationship type.

“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that ever since you broke up with Weasley, you haven’t been with anyone. It’s not right, Potter.”

“You seem very invested in my sex life, Malfoy.”

“Not your sex life, Potter. Your love life. It’s not right that you did so much for the Wizarding World, but just because they’re not ready to accept people like us, you have to be alone.” Harry was quiet. “Sorry Potter. I know it’s not my place. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not anything I haven’t thought before.” Harry chuckled bitterly. “Sometimes I wonder if I should just say ‘to hell with it’ and tell them I’m gay. I mean, surely I of all people could get away with it.”

Draco was silent. This was Harry’s decision, and he didn’t want to influence it either way.

“It might even make things easier for others, like you,” Harry continued. “They would be a lot more reluctant to slander you in the papers for being a homosexual if their golden war hero was also bent. I almost have a responsibility to come out, put it that way.”

Trust Potter to make coming out part of his Saviour Complex. “Harry, you shouldn’t be coming out just to protect others. It’s a deeply personal decision. You should only be coming out for yourself. If it’s what you want.”

Harry looked very vulnerable. “Maybe I do want to come out. Maybe… I want to finally meet somebody I can be with. A guy I can be with. And it’s not going to happen when they don’t even know.”

“If that’s what you want Potter, then I support your decision. But you should be aware that it’s not all sunshine and roses on the other side either. I’m not talking about the press; I’m sure you’re very familiar with their particular brand of hostility. I mean that gay men, they can be their own kind of headache.” He paused to see if Harry was following, and was given the nod to continue. “You’ll obviously get the fanatics, the one’s who want to ingratiate themselves with you because you’re famous or rich or a former Death Eater – or in your case, the Chosen One. Then there’s the kind who are really, really sexual. For some reason, gay men are the most hypersexualised group of people I’ve ever encountered. It’s not about love or enjoyment for them. It’s some kind of game, like a point system where the one with the most meaningless fucks is the winner. They’ll aggressively court you to get you into bed only to completely lose interest the moment they’ve succeeded. And then, of those who are left? If you manage to find someone who is genuine and compatible and likes you back? They’ll have their own baggage and hang ups or are so deep in the closet you have to hide your relationship from everyone. And the last thing you want to do when you’re finally being honest to the world is have to hide your partner.” Draco realised he had been venting and accomplished the opposite of being neutral. “Not that it’s always like that, Potter. I might have exaggerated some. I’m sure if you chose to come out, you’d be able to find someone. I didn’t mean to scare you off it like that.”

“You didn’t scare me, Malfoy. I’m glad to have an idea of what it’s like.” Harry looked sad, but not for himself. “Is that what it’s always been like for you?”

Draco considered how he should answer, and then decided that as forthright and trusting as Harry had been to him, he should show some vulnerability in return.

“To be completely honest, Potter, all that I could handle. Those are just the standard pitfalls of single life. It’s not the sexuality that’s the biggest problem. It’s the war. Going through it, it changes you. And I know everyone in Wizarding Britain experienced it and suffered in their own ways, but it’s not the same. They don’t understand what it was like living under the same roof as him. Knowing your every action would have immediate consequences on your life, on your parents lives. They don’t understand how you don’t recover from that. How it stays with you. None of my relationships have survived because none of them could understand.” Draco remembered who he was talking to, and silently rebuked himself. “I can’t believe I’m saying all this to Harry Potter. As if anyone had it worse than you. I’m being an idiot.”

“No Malfoy, you’re not being an idiot. I get it,” Harry said. And Draco knew that he did.

“Do you know why my longest relationship ended? Do you know why after two years and even moving in together, he called it quits? Of all things, it’s because I wouldn’t bottom for him.” At Harry’s perplexed look, he clarified, “I mean that I wouldn’t take it up the arse for him. But I couldn’t. It’s not that I don’t like it, I just can’t make myself do it. Every time, my mind just panics, I shut down, I get the shakes. It’s completely unsexy and it doesn’t make sense. It’s not like anything ever happened to me, not like that. Nothing non-consensual; I was never forced. But for some reason, I just cannot make my body submit in that way. Sometimes just thinking about it can induce a panic attack.” Draco’s face was getting warm from the shame of confessing this, but he forced himself to continue. “I told him about it from the beginning. I was upfront that it wasn’t something I might ever be able to overcome, and he seemed to accept it at first. But then he kept asking. He kept pushing for it. He seemed to think that with enough love and affection between us we should be able to break the barrier, and that I just wasn’t trying hard enough. He said if I really loved him I would be able to get past it. In the end apparently that was enough to end the whole relationship over.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to all this, but he went with, “he sounds like a dick”.

Draco smiled bitterly. “The worst part is that he wasn’t. He was actually a perfectly decent guy in every other way. We were honestly happy together, apart from this one thing. He just couldn’t understand.” As if it made a difference, he added, “he didn’t go to Hogwarts”. Draco laughed at himself, but Harry understood. For them, it made a whole world of difference.

Eventually Draco composed himself enough to feel embarrassed. Not because he had told Harry all those things. He trusted Harry and didn’t regret confiding in him, but he did feel sorry that he’d let himself get so worked up. He tried to apologise, but Harry wouldn’t hear of it.

“You listened to me when I needed an outlet to consider coming out, you helped me come to terms with my virginity, and then you made it easy for me to tell you I was gay. I’m only glad I was able to help you vent some of your own frustrations in turn. It’s the least I could do.” Harry was bold enough to reach out and place his hand over Draco’s in comfort. Draco didn’t pull away, and they remained like that for a few minutes, drawing strength from each other’s presence.

Some time later, Harry asked for the time, and Draco cast another Tempus.

“A quarter past six,” he reported. “Just think, Potter. It only took six hours alone in a confined space for us to reveal our deepest, darkest secrets to each other.”

Harry had to laugh at that. “Imagine what will happen by midnight.”

“Imagine what will happen if we’re stuck here until tomorrow! Merlin, I don’t think we would survive.”

“If only Dumbledore had locked us in a room ten years ago. Things could have gone very differently.” Harry actually imagined this, and quickly backtracked. “On second thought, we definitely wouldn’t have survived that.”

“I was about to say Potter. You’re clearly going mad if you thought we’d have survived a minute alone back then.”

“Oh shut it, Malfoy.”

It didn’t escape either of their notice that they had yet to move their hands.

 

**8.20pm**

By 8 o’clock, Draco was hungry and bored enough to renew his efforts to find a way out, double-checking every crack and crevice of the room in his desperation. It was fortunate that they could _Aguamenti_ water when they grew thirsty, or Draco may have resorted to _Bombarda_ -ing his way out of the catacombs, which would have been a terrible idea for multiple reasons, including the fact that it was almost certain that destructive charms would set off a nasty trap.

Harry had taken possession of Draco’s badge-turned-ball and was bouncing it against the wall as Draco had done earlier. The ball was ill-formed and bounced unpredictably, which made it unintentionally useful for training his reflexes. Not that Harry Potter, youngest Hogwarts Seeker in a Century, needed the training.

Some twenty minutes later, Draco abruptly stopped his examination of the ceiling and whirled back towards the sealed entryway. Caught off-guard by the sudden movement, Harry missed the ball.

“Malfoy, what is it?”

“Something has just occurred to me Potter,” he announced, not taking his eyes off the runes. “I’m just making sure I’m not wrong, but I may have found a way out.”

Harry got to his feet, unable to contain his eagerness.

“What? How?”

Draco turned to Harry, and there was a wild excitement in his eyes.

“Ancient Runes are notorious for lacking the structural rules of grammar that most modern languages have. I didn’t bother to look for a loophole, because I was deciphering the spirit of the curse rather than the letter of the curse. Usually in magic, intent is a much stronger force than the language or method you use. If the caster intended for a virgin sacrifice, a virgin sacrifice it requires.”

Harry was nodding, so far following Draco’s verbiage, but not understanding the point of it.

“In this case, however, the caster wasn’t the one who carved these runes, or who outlined the curse. This would have been before the common use of wands, it makes sense. It was either a wizard or witch who had the control to channel their magic into carving runes, or someone had to manually carve the runes into the stone. Then another wizard or witch charged the runes to give them power. They probably did this one-by-one for every individual room. The only problem is that using magic simply to charge a spell is impersonal and it lacks intent. Magic that isn’t given a specific shape or direction will default to follow the language of the spell, and if the language is vague enough, it can be circumvented. Ergo, loophole.”

“That’s all well and good, Malfoy, but how does that spell our way out?”

“A virgin sacrifice,” Draco pointed at the wall. “That doesn’t necessarily mean we have to sacrifice a virgin. It can also mean that it requires a sacrifice that is of a virginal nature. Meaning, if you sacrifice virginity itself, the curse would accept that. Not the virgin, just the virginity.”

Harry had caught his meaning. “And, as we established before, we’re both technical virgins.”

Draco was almost jumping with excitement. “Yes! Yes, exactly. By heteronormative standards.”

Harry was sceptical. “Would the curse accept that?”

“Well, virginity is a social construct, so as long as we can feasibly define it as such through social practice, the spell would accept it.” Here Draco’s smile turned wicked. “And common social practice is to define sexual intercourse between a male and female as the true and only way to lose virginity, so…”

“But wouldn’t that then require male and female intercourse to break the curse?”

“Fuck, you’re right.” But Draco wasn’t outmanoeuvred for long. “Well the gay community defines anal intercourse as the typical way to lose one’s virginity, and gay culture is established enough that that would qualify as accepted social practice.”

“That honestly sounds like a reach, Malfoy.”

“It doesn’t matter how it sounds, the curse isn’t sentient. It will either accept it or it won’t!”

Despite himself, Harry couldn’t help finding the situation hilarious. “Malfoy, you do realise you’re bargaining with a rock.”

“I am debating _semantics_ to circumvent a centuries-old curse, Potter. And you could try not belittling me when I’m the only one of us with an idea to get us out of here.”

“Sorry, you’re right. So all we have to do to get out is for one of us to sacrifice our virginity.”

They both sobered immediately, realising exactly what was being demanded of them.

“I’ll do it Potter,” Draco volunteered. “You can bugger me.”

“Malfoy, you just told me how traumatic it is for you every time you try to bottom. I’m not going to put you through that; I can do it.” Harry was almost angry that Draco had even offered.

“Potter, it’s your first time. I’m not about to make you take cock for the first time against the wall in some dingy underground crypt like a barbarian.”

“Technically it would be your first time too.”

“Only one of my first times. At least I’ve been with a man before. And also-” suddenly a thought occurred to him. “Holy shit Potter.”

“What? What now?”

“Maybe there doesn’t have to be one be-all and end-all for virginity. Maybe it’s something that you can lose over and over again, in each of your first times.”

“What does that mean, Malfoy?”

“Okay, remember how I tried a Weasley product for the first time today? And you said I’d lost my ‘Nosebleed Nougat’ virginity’?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“So maybe, every time you do something for the first time, you’re losing your virginity for that specific situation. The first time you get a blow job, you lose your fellatio virginity. The first time you kiss, you lose your kissing virginity.”

“So losing virginity as a state of mind rather than as a physical act?” Harry said, sounding unconvinced.

“Why not? It’s already a nonsense social construct. Why not make it a meaningful one? One that’s universal to every type of human, regardless of sexuality?”

“Honestly Malfoy, I really have doubts that the curse is going to accept this. We’ve gone so far into the realm of the theoretical.”

“Well there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

“True,” Harry conceded. “Alright, I’m game. What first time did you have in mind.”

Was it Harry’s imagination or did Draco look a little shy?

“Tell me, Harry. Have you ever been kissed?”

Harry gave Draco a dirty look. “Of course I have.”

“I mean by a man, you pillock.”

“Oh,” said Harry, comprehending. “No. No I haven’t.” Draco didn’t say a word. “You want me to kiss you?”

Somehow, the idea of kissing Draco felt a lot more real than the idea of being fucked by Draco had.

Draco demurred. “Only if it’s okay by you, Potter. You don’t have to do anything. I don’t want to force you into something you’re not ready for. We can still just wait for backup.”

“You’re willing to stay trapped possibly all night in a confined room just because I might not be ready to kiss a man for the first time?”

“Well I don’t want your first time to be dictated by some stupid rock.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “You stupid, thoughtful, compassionate man. Of course I’m willing to kiss you.”

Draco blushed from the flattery, but was still concerned. “Are you certain, Harry?”

“I’m positive. Get us out of here Draco.” To show him just how certain he was, Harry stepped up close to Draco and put his arms around his neck. From this angle, he could see his face flush an even deeper pink. It was an unexpectedly lovely sight. “Unless you’d rather not kiss me?” Harry asked coyly.

“Don’t be an idiot Potter.” Draco relaxed into the embrace, wrapping his own arms around Harry’s neck. He chuckled softly. “It’s like that Muggle song of yours. How did it go? _Kiss me on the mouth and set us free_.”

“It’s ‘me’,” Harry corrected.

“No Harry,” said Draco. “It’s us.”

And with those most fucking romantic words, Draco leaned in and pressed his lips to Harry’s.

The kiss was chaste and short-lived, but that didn’t make it devoid of feeling. Warring within Draco were the twin urges to not demand anything more of Harry than the curse required, but to also not let the only opportunity he would get to kiss Harry Potter go to waste. He wasn’t sure how much of his emotions bled into the kiss, but from the dazed look on Harry’s face as he pulled away, he had a good idea. He didn’t want to look away.

“Did it work?” asked Harry.

_Oh shit, the curse._

Draco raised a hand to the stone. It disappeared.

“It worked!”

Draco was too stunned, he hadn’t really believed it would work.

“Quick, Malfoy, through the entry.” They still had not let go of their embrace, so Harry simply pulled Draco along with him as he walked through the stone. As soon as they had passed through the doorway, Harry felt Draco’s grip on his arms tighten, and they were apparating. When his feet found the earth again he was standing at the entryway to the catacombs, under an open night sky.

“Oh, thank _fuck_!” Harry immediately broke free of Draco’s grasp to run around the open space, arms wide and inhaling deeply. “I am never taking fresh air for granted again!” he yelled.

Draco watched on in amusement, and eventually called out, “You alright there Potter?” Harry slowly circled back to join Draco, still grinning like a loon. “Never better. You?”

“Incredibly relieved and in need of a shower.”

“Thank you for getting us out of there. It was really clever how you outsmarted that rock.”

“And thank you for trusting me with your first time.”

Harry looked at him fondly, and Draco couldn’t look away from those honest, green eyes. He held out his hands for Harry to hold, and Harry didn’t hesitate.

“Listen, Harry. I know you only just came out to me, and I know that our kiss wasn’t any kind of promise, but I –“

“Draco, I think I know where this is going, and yes. Yes, I would very much like to.”

Draco smiled affectionately. “Not even going to let me finish asking you out, Potter?”

Harry blushed, and it was the loveliest sight Draco had ever seen.

“You’re right, sorry. Go on, you can finish.”

“No it’s too late now, you’ve ruined the moment.”

“In that case, I’m going to ask you something now, and feel free to interrupt me if you see where it’s going.”

Draco nodded, and Harry stepped in, closing the distance between their clasped hands and his chest.

“I’d like to kiss you now. And not because some stupid curse is making us or because it’s some rite of passage. I want to kiss you for myself. Because I want to. May I?”

In response, Draco let go of their joined hands and pulled Harry into an embrace. He softly held Harry’s face in his hands, regarding him like he was the most precious thing they’d ever beheld, and leaned in so that his lips were just brushing against Harry’s.

“ _Set me free, Potter_ ,” he whispered. And this time, their kiss felt like a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in May, all in one night, without planning it out beforehand. I just rode the wave until the work was complete, which is why you may find some of the logic Draco uses to circumvent the curse questionable (lol). At the time I was just proud to finish a fic in one night - my first Drarry and my first slash. The note below is my original end note before ao3 deleted the draft.
> 
> _This got a lot more lengthier and angstier in parts than I had expected. I literally have no idea where Draco’s romantic woes subplot came from, it wasn’t in my original plan. It was supposed to be a light-hearted fluff/comedy with some discourse about virginity/heteronormativity thrown in, but I guess my very real frustrations about the gay community and misconceptions concerning trauma and mental illness must have bled into it a bit. I hope it wasn’t too jarring for the readers._
> 
> Also, the song referenced is Troye Sivan's 'BITE'. Yes I realise it's a little too recent for this mid-2000's setting but I'm pretty loose with anachronisms that don't affect the plot.
> 
> This work is completely un-betaed and non-Britpricked, so please feel free to point out any of the mistakes or errors I’ve missed.


End file.
